Connection and Capacity
by Beautiful T Jakson
Summary: Sort of a missing moment from the sixth movie. Very short, but hopefully very sweet. Harry and Hermione talk about nothing in particular while he comforts her on a stairwell. Takes place within movie canon. May do a followup if the reviews are good.
1. Chapter 1

"You're…back?"

Sirius nudged the large door open, staring disbelievingly across the room at the author; his beard was back to a stubble, and his hair looked like it had been cut but grown back out already, but it was unmistakably him.

"I was gone?" he asked in puzzlement, his mouth puckering in confusion. "I mean, yeah, it's been a while, but I got writer's block again."

"Again?"

"I told you, ADD, or something," the author said. "On the bright side, I've made progress on my novels."

"Good for you," Sirius said with a small chuckle, moving to plop into the chair opposite the author, who was currently sifting through a large CD folio. "More of the Beatles?"

"Magical Mystery Tour," the author said with a grin, pressing play and reaching into a folder he'd brought with him. "So, I bought the Half-Blood Prince movie."

"Oh, yeah?" Sirius asked. "What'd you think?"

He shrugged. "It had its moments."

"So, is that why you're here?" Sirius asked, nodding at the small manuscript in the author's hands. "Inspiration from the movie?"

"Yeah, I seem to have this thing for Harry and Hermione on staircases," the author said with a chuckle, and Sirius laughed, leaning back in his chair as the author held out the manuscript. "Take a look. See if you can spot what I changed."

* * *

**Connection and Capacity**

**Chapter One  
**

"How does it feel, Harry?" she asked, her breath hitching, and she inhaled before continuing. "When you see…Dean with Ginny?"

Harry blinked staring at her for a moment, at a loss for words. "Oh…um…." How did she…?

"I know," Hermione said, her breath hitching again. "I see the way you look at her. You're my best friend," she added by way of explanation, and Harry mentally nodded; of course she'd have figured it out.

Harry was still trying to think of a response when a high-pitched giggling met their ears, and they looked up to see the last two people that would make this situation any better than it currently was. Ron was hurrying toward the stairs, his eyes on a happily skipping Lavender, who was clutching to his arm with what looked the sole purpose of making him aware of her chest. The pair stopped when their eyes landed on Harry and Hermione, and Harry for his part felt his heart sink; there went any hope of salvaging the situation.

"Oops," Lavender said with another giggle, her eyes darting between Harry and Hermione, clearly drastically misreading the situation. "I think this room's taken," she whispered into Ron's ear, pressing herself even closer to him (and making him alarmingly aware of her chest, Harry noted).

"What's with the birds?" Ron asked with a nervous laugh as Lavender rushed off (no doubt to scout another snogging location). Hermione stood angrily, and Harry inwardly winced, feeling a pang of sympathy for Ron, for all his acting the arse this evening.

"_Oppugno_," she said with quiet anger, and the birds she had charmed up circled her head not unlike a squad of jets, rounding and zooming at Ron, who stared at them in bewilderment, backpedalling and just managing to dodge them, sending the birds flying into a wall, where they disappeared in a whirl of yellow feathers.

_Impressive_, Harry noted inwardly as Ron stared at Hermione in clear confusion before following Lavender. Letting another quiet sob, Hermione backed to the stairs, slouching down like a woman defeated, and Harry moved down a step to allow her to sink onto his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his right arm.

"It feels like this," Harry said quietly, answering her previous question.

"Why does it have to hurt so much?" Hermione asked, and Harry shook his head, giving her a comforting squeeze with his arm.

"I…dunno," he said. "I think that's something we work out later."

Harry didn't know how long they sat like that, Hermione buried in his neck, her sobs slowly subsiding into the occasional hitched breath. Soon, though, she gave a huge sniff and let sigh.

"Sorry," she whispered, sitting up and pulling her knees to her chest. "I suppose you didn't plan on spending tonight with me sobbing into your shoulder."

"Oh, don't worry about me," Harry said with a smile. "I'm just making up for leaving you sobbing on a staircase after the Yule Ball."

Hermione let a watery giggle, and Harry chuckled as well. "Right," she said. "Well, you're doing a fine job. Funny enough, that was because of Ron, as well. I don't know why I even bother anymore."

Harry couldn't think of anything to say to that one, so he only shrugged, looking over at Hermione as she stared thoughtfully out the window, the moonlight waning as it sank behind a cloud, leaving them in semidarkness.

"Harry," she said, and Harry made a noise to show she had his attention. "D'you want to go to Professor Slughorn's party together? Just as friends?"

"Um, sure," Harry said, nodding, "but that's a bit out of the blue, isn't it?"

"Well, I was just…don't you dare laugh," she said, glaring at Harry, who nodded quickly. "I was just going over all the implications of this. I do that when things like this happen."

"I see," Harry said. Leave it to Hermione to organize everything about her life, even the romance.

"And I _was_ planning on asking _Ronald_ to the party, but now I think I'd rather go with you," she said. "At least I don't have to worry about _you_ being a complete cad."

"I try my best," Harry said with a smile, and Hermione giggled as well, leaning in to hug him.

"Thank you, Harry," she said. "I think I'd lose my mind without you."

"Well, I can think of plenty of times I'd've lost my _life_ without you," Harry said, and Hermione chuckled, "so I guess we're even."

"I suppose," Hermione said, laying her head on his shoulder. She was silent a moment, staring thoughtfully out the window again. Harry briefly wondered if she could do anything without seeming thoughtful. Hermione was always thinking, and trying to look like you weren't thinking would probably take too much concentration.

"What are you thinking about?" Hermione asked, and Harry's cocked his head as he pondered the question.

"I'm not really sure," he said, and Hermione laughed.

"Well, do you want to sit and figure it out, or would you like to go back to the common room?" she asked. "The party's probably wound down by now."

"And if Ron's still there?"

"Then I'll head straight for the girls' dorms," she said with a decided nod.

"And what if Lavender's with him?"

"D'you think she's got ornithophobia?" Hermione asked, and Harry rolled his eyes, unsure of what ornithophobia was, but positive that it had _something_ do with a flock of canaries.

……

The common room was, mercifully, devoid of Ron and Lavender. A few of the younger team members were still lounging around with their friends, relishing their first ever quidditch victory, and they all looked up and raised their glasses to Harry when he entered. Harry gave them a wave, following Hermione to the entrance to the girls' dorms. She stopped at the door, turning and smiling at him. Stepping closer, she wrapped him in a hug, resting her head on his chest before pulling away. As she stepped back, their gazes locked, brown on green, and Harry found himself frozen in place as he stared at her chocolate brown eyes, still slightly puffy from crying, but the sheen of tears had left them almost…sparkling?

"Oh!" Hermione gasped as their noses touched, and they sprang apart; somehow, they had ended up leaning closer to each other.

"Um," Harry struggle to find anything to say, but Hermione smiled, putting a hand on his chest and effectively cutting him off.

"Goodnight, Harry," she said softly, and Harry nodded, finding himself still unable to speak. Hermione turned and made her way up the stairs, and Harry watched her progress until she was out of sight, staring at the point where she had disappeared long after she'd gone.

……

"Harry?" Ron's voice called out as Harry entered the dorm. "That you?"

"Yeah," Harry said, still slightly dazed as he changed into his nightclothes. "S'me."

"How's…um, how's Hermione?"

"She's…" Harry sank onto his mattress, at a loss for words, "brilliant."

"That bad, eh?" Ron asked, mistaking his remark for sarcasm. "Well, hopefully she'll be better by morning."

"Yeah," Harry replied, slipping under his covers. "Yeah, morning. Things'll be a lot better in the morning."

* * *

"That's it?" Sirius asked, looking at the author in disbelief. "You can't just leave it at that!"

"I wasn't _planning_ to," the author said with a laugh. "I just wanna get some feedback, then I'll probably post more. I'm trying to take it slower this time, maybe draw it out some more. I was told that the first few chapters of _Dragon_ were a little rushed in places."

"Yeah, I saw those reviews," Sirius said. "So, what about your other two stories?"

"Hiatus," the author said, standing with a grunt and taking the manuscript back from Sirius, who followed as the author headed to the posting point. "I may go back and work on _Segue_, but I don't know if I'll ever do anything with _Disparate_."

"Well, whatever the case, it's good to see you writing again," Sirius said with a grin, clapping the author on the shoulder and tugging him to a stop. "And you forgot the disclaimer."

"Oh," the author said, looking mildly surprised. "I did, didn't I?"

Turning, he spoke to the room at large, "I don't own Harry Potter or any of its affiliated characters, settings, or any associated creative property. The aforementioned is the sole property of J.K. Rowling and Scholastic Publishing Company. Any characters, settings, or creative property mentioned within this story and not associated with Harry Potter are the sole property of me unless otherwise specified, and use is limited to my permission. Thank you and have a nice day."

"Come on, they're waiting for you," Sirius said, moving past him to lead the way to the posting point. Absently humming along to "I Am The Walrus", the author followed with a smile.


	2. Chapter 2

"Y'know, you're going to get tired of the Beatles soon enough," Sirius said, smirking as he saw the author hunched over what looked like a sketchbook, listening yet again to the band from long before he was born. The author looked up with mock disgust.

"You bite your tongue," he said, reaching for a nearby eraser, changing his mind, and setting it back down.

"You can draw?" Sirius asked, sitting across from him and peering at the drawing, which was only just an outline.

"Sorta," the author said. "I'm no pro, but I'm self-taught, so what do you expect?"

"Why are you drawing?"

"I've started an account over at a place called deviantART," the author said, and Sirius gave him a bemused look.

"_DeviantART?_" he asked. "That place that has all the pictures of me and Remus…doing things I'd rather not discuss?"

"Well, not _everyone_ slashes you two, but yeah, that's a large percent of the Harry Potter demographic over there. I decided to post my stories there, too, and maybe do some drawings that tie in to them. Who knows, maybe I could start some sort of literary revolution over there."

"I doubt that," Sirius said, watching as the author reached into a folder he had nearby and took out a stack of papers. "New chapter?"

"Yes, and don't worry; Harry get's plenty of 'action' in this one," the author assured him, and grinning, Sirius delved into the chapter.

* * *

**Chapter Two: Just smile and nod; he'll shut up soon enough**

"He's perfectly at liberty to kiss whomever he feels like," Hermione said briskly (and far too loudly for the library) as she walked amongst the shelves, putting books back in their proper places. Harry followed behind, offering apologetic smiles to students disrupted by Hermione's rant. "I'll admit I was under the impression that we would be attending Slughorn's party together, but…."

She fell silent, clutching the only remaining book to her chest and slumping against a desk and sighing. Harry smiled at her, leaning against the opposite desk.

"Hey, I'm sure he'll come 'round," he said. "Ron's just thick sometimes. You know that."

"I don't know if I _want_ him to come around," Hermione said with another sigh. "Ron's a good friend, but…every time I try to show him that I'm ready for more, it causes me nothing but grief."

Harry nodded, remembering well the disastrous events of the Yule Ball. "He is a bit of an arse sometimes."

"But that's the _problem_," Hermione said, irritated. "You know, I sat awake for hours last night, and I came to the conclusion that I had no business developing feelings for him. I told myself that I can't get together with him if he acts like he has the emotional range of a seven-year-old."

"Well, that's Ron," Harry said with a shrug, and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"That's exactly what I told _myself_," she said, "but…look at me. Do I look like the kind of girl who should fall for a guy like that?"

Harry thought for a moment then shook his head. "You should be with someone…I dunno, mature."

"Or at least someone nicer," Hermione said, looking up at Harry and then to her left, her eyes widening slightly at what she saw. Harry looked up to see what had startled her, but Hermione had already stood and swiftly moved into his line of sight. "That girl?" she said, and Harry nodded, peering over her shoulder at a cute girl with curly black hair and freckles, who was currently eyeing the pair a little too intently. "That's Romilda Vane. She's been talking about slipping you a love potion."

"Really?" Harry asked, intrigued. Flattering, in an odd sort of way….

Hermione snapped her fingers at him, and Harry jerked, looking back down at her. "Hey! She's only after you because she thinks you're the Chosen One."

"But I _am_ the Chosen One," Harry said with a grin, and Hermione smacked him with a scroll she was carrying. "Ah, okay…kidding."

"Just _be careful_," Hermione said, brandishing the scroll at him. "You get into enough trouble without having to worry about making a fool of yourself and…confessing to a girl you don't even know in front of the whole school."

"True enough," Harry agreed. "Well, I'll just mind any anonymous Christmas gifts I get this year."

Hermione rolled her eyes with a smile, placing the last book in its proper place and making to exit the library. Harry followed behind. "So, are there any other girls I should be watching out for? Or is Romilda the only one crazy enough to resort to a love potion?"

"Well, when she was bragging about it to her friends, they all asked her where she'd gotten it from, but then they noticed me," Hermione explained. "They knew you and I are friends, so I didn't hear anything else."

"Oh," Harry said, slightly nervous now. One girl was easy enough, but who knew how many fronts he'd be fighting. What if a girl was desperate enough to slip him a potion in his sleep? Hermione seemed to sense his distress and gave him a reassuring smile.

"I'm sure it was all talk," she said as they exited the library and headed toward the courtyard, "but if you'd like, I can teach you some spells to cast so they can't jump you in your sleep."

Harry sighed, smiling gratefully at her. "Hermione, you're amazing."

Hermione pinked slightly, bumping him with her shoulder. "I try," she said, and Harry bumped her back.

"You succeed," he added. "A lot. More than anyone else I've ever met."

"You're just happy that I'm keeping you from being violated in your sleep," Hermione said with a giggle, and Harry laughed, stopping when he noticed that she'd come to a halt. Glancing at her, he noticed that her expression had abruptly turned rather ugly. He followed her gaze (though he could already guess what she had spotted) and saw Ron and Lavender lounging on a bench in the courtyard, snogging with absolutely no regard for their public location.

"Fancy heading to the common room?" Harry asked, and Hermione nodded.

"Absolutely," she said, and they turned as one, leaving the less than appealing sight behind them.

……

"What d'you think he sees in her?"

Harry looked up from his Daily Prophet to see Hermione staring contemplatively at the fire.

"You mean Ron and Lavender?" he asked, and Hermione nodded. "Probably just an easy snog. He's not a deep bloke."

Hermione laughed. "I know _that_. But…is she good-looking?"

Harry shrugged. "She's not bad, sure."

Hermione nodded. "And…would you say _I'm_ good-looking?"

Harry looked at her in puzzlement. "Of course. Is that what's bothering you? You think Ron thinks she's better-looking than you?"

Hermione looked sheepishly at her feet. "It's part of it. I mean, as arrogant as it may sound, I know I'm smarter than she is, and Ron really seems to like her – "

"Hermione, that's ridiculous," Harry said. "Like I said, I think Ron was just looking for an easy snog and a pretty face, and Lavender was perfect. You…I dunno, I think you intimidate him."

"What?"

"Well, it's not like you're scary or anything," Harry added quickly. "But Ron's…well, simple, like I said. And he wanted a simple girl to match, I suppose."

"So, it's not because I'm unattractive?" Hermione asked, still staring at her feet, and Harry chuckled.

"If you'd like, I can get Cormac in here, and he can – " he was abruptly cut off as a pillow flew at his face.

"Harry James Potter, don't you _dare_," Hermione said, and Harry laughed, standing and setting his paper aside. "Harry!"

She leapt to her feet and grabbed him around the middle, though this caused them both to overbalance and topple back to the couch in a laughing heap.

"Harry, get off!" Hermione giggled, squirming beneath him. "You're too heavy!"

Harry rolled from the couch and sat on the floor next to Hermione's head, and she turned onto her side, smiling at him. When Harry smiled back, she laughed, reaching out and bopping him playfully on the forehead.

"You're such a prat," she said, and Harry grinned at her.

"But I'm the only one keeping you from losing your mind," he said, and Hermione let a single laugh.

"I suppose that's true," she admitted with a sigh, gazing at him, and just like the other night, their eyes locked, and Harry found himself frozen, trapped by those brown orbs. Hermione seemed to be in a similar trance, staring into his eyes with her lips slightly parted. Staring at her, Harry felt himself lean closer this time, though he didn't stop himself; it just seemed the right thing to do. Their noses touched again, and Hermione let a shaky breath, turning slightly and moving half an inch forward.

The kiss was wonderful, soft, warm, and short; almost as soon as it began, Hermione was pulling away, staring wide-eyed at Harry, a hand reaching up to touch her lips.

"I…I just kissed you," she said softly, and Harry nodded.

"I know," he said. "I was there."

Hermione let a shaky laugh. "I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me."

"Well, I didn't mind it in the slightest," Harry said, and she smiled with obvious relief.

"So…what does this mean?"

"I…dunno," Harry said, shaking his head. "You obviously must've _wanted_ to kiss me, and like I said, I didn't mind at all."

"Maybe it was some sort of…reaction," Hermione said. "I mean, I've been having romantic issues, so I would…possibly…subconsciously want to make an advance on the only other man in my life that I know as well as Ron, especially after you've been so great to me these past few days, and you just got done talking about how…um, good-looking I was," she turned red, "so maybe I…got a little carried away. And…you didn't mind, so...."

"You wanna just see where this takes us?" he asked. "I mean, a kiss doesn't have to ruin what we have, right?"

"But what if it takes us to…romance?" Hermione asked, still beet red. Harry smiled.

"Then Ron'll have really missed out," he said, and Hermione smiled, giggling.

"But…what about Ginny?"

Harry stared at the fire, pondering. Truth be told, he hadn't thought a whole lot about Ginny at all in the past few days. She was still together with Dean, and they seemed to have gotten over whatever fight they had had, and now that he thought about it….

"When…when did she become such good friends with us?" Harry asked, and Hermione looked at him in confusion.

"What do you mean?" she asked, sitting up and patting the spot next to her on the couch. Harry joined her, still in thought.

"Well, last year, she almost never spent time with us outside of D.A. meetings," Harry said. "Now she's with us pretty much all the time."

"Well, she…" Hermione paused, shrugging. "I'm honestly not sure. Maybe she grew apart from her friends in her year and decided to spend time with her brother."

"I guess," Harry conceded with a nod. "Still odd, though."

"But…how do you feel about her?" Hermione asked. "You said the other night that it was painful to see her and Dean together, but…."

"I'm…not sure," Harry said, still staring at the fire. He felt a weight on her shoulder and looked to see Hermione resting her head there, looking up at him.

"Listen, don't feel obligated to give up on her just because of me, okay?" she said. "Whatever this is," she gestured between them, "we can still call if off with no hard feelings."

Harry nodded, and Hermione stood, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek; Harry found himself unable to stop from turning and pressing a kiss to her mouth, which Hermione returned with small laugh.

"I'm going to get ready for bed," she said. "Good night, Harry."

"Good night," Harry replied, still distracted from the kiss. Hermione disappeared up the stairs to the girls' dorm, leaving Harry with a swirling torrent of thoughts.

He liked Hermione, and it was clear that he was interested in her as more than just a friend (and that she reciprocated these feelings). But what about Ginny?

_What_ about _her?_ he found himself pondering. Sure, she was cute, but every time he tried to recall that feeling he got in the pit of his stomach when he'd looked at her, it seemed to pale in comparison to the excitement he felt even at the _prospect_ of seeing Hermione. Even now, as he sat here having just seen her, he couldn't wait until tomorrow to just…be with her.

Ginny was intriguing, but Hermione was…thrilling.

He chuckled to himself at the thought of the look on Hermione's face if he told her she was "thrilling", standing and heading for the boys' dorms. With a double Defense class awaiting him tomorrow, he wanted to be awake and alert.

……

"Harry, you alright?" Ron asked as he and Harry exited the Defense classroom (Hermione had made quite a show of slowly and carefully placing her books in her bag, taking as long as possible). "Looked like you could barely pay attention to Snape at all. I'll admit, he's not the most interesting bloke, but still…."

"I've," Harry paused, feeling a heat in his face as he recalled his and Hermione's kiss of last night, "got a bit on my mind, is all."

"You kept looking at Hermione, too," Ron said. "Worried about her?"

"Yeah," Harry said, eagerly seizing on the excuse as soon as Ron presented it. "I mean, she was a wreck that night, so…. Actually, if you don't mind, I think she was having a hard time with her bag back there. Mind if I check on her?"

He looked over to see that Ron wasn't even paying him mind anymore, already staring down the hallway with a completely besotted expression. Following his (foolish) gaze, Harry saw Lavender staring back in kind. Seeing that he would probably not be missed at this point, Harry backed up a couple of steps before turning, almost running headlong into Dean, who he noticed had Ginny attached to his arm. He noted with curiosity that this did not cause him near the agony it may have caused him two weeks ago. Indeed, he felt a small amount of relief that they had gotten over their quarrel.

"Hey, Dean," Harry greeted them. "Ginny. Did Hermione leave Snape's room yet?"

"I think I saw her head for the library," Dean said. "No surprise, right?"

Harry grinned, sparing one last look at Ron and Lavender, who were now thoroughly engrossed in each other (really, did they ever actually _speak_ to each other?).

"Thanks, mate," Harry said, moving past the pair and making for the library as well.

……

He found her down the Contemporary Alchemy aisle, scanning the shelves. As he approached, she drew a tome from the row and opened it right there, perusing a page at random with a look of such concentration that Harry found himself smiling in amusement. He crept up behind her, peering over her shoulder at the book that she was reading (_Potion or Poison? An Examination of "Technically" Legal Potions_). She seemed to be reading about love potions.

"Love potions?" he asked, and Hermione gasped, jumping and almost dropping the book. Rounding on him, she smacked Harry in the shoulder.

"Harry, I nearly had a heart attack!" she hissed. Harry grinned, nodding at the book.

"Love potions?" he asked again, and Hermione blushed, shutting the book and clutching it to her chest.

"Well, Romilda Vane was still bragging this morning, and I thought that if she somehow _did_ manage to get the slip on you, it would be best to know how to counteract it."

"Oh," Harry said, surprised at the amount of thought she'd given this subject. "Well…thanks, Hermione. You're always so thoughtful," he added, leaning in to touch his forehead to hers. Hermione blushed anew, biting her lip before moving to kiss him. Harry brought a hand up to brush her neck, trailing his fingers along her jaw as they kissed. This one was different (and much better, in Harry's opinion) than the ones from yesterday, which were enjoyable, but fleeting; Hermione didn't seem keen on ending this one as soon as before. Harry leaned against the bookshelf behind him and pulled Hermione closer to him, deepening the kiss. Hermione made a noise of approval running her hands over the front of his robes before grabbing two fistfuls. She was just flicking her tongue over Harry's lips when a loud cough sounded.

"Potter. Granger."

Harry didn't think he'd ever moved faster before as he sprang to one side, Hermione immediately moving as far back as the aisle would allow. Both turned toward the source of the voice, finding Professor McGonagall looking at them with an expression clearly torn between fury and embarrassment.

"While I'm happy that you've chosen to…explore your feelings for each other," she said tightly, surveying them critically, "public displays of affection are prohibited in the library, as you should well know, Miss Granger."

"Sorry, Professor," Hermione said, unable to look the teacher in the eye (indeed, she had difficulty looking away from her feet, and her face was a shade of scarlet that Harry had previously thought unattainable). "We got…carried away."

"Quite," McGonagall agreed. "In any case, Potter, the Ravenclaw chasers are in the hospital wing and apparently temporarily blind due to a Potions mishap, which means that quidditch pitch is no longer booked for tonight. Shall I assume you'll want to take this opportunity for practice?"

"Absolutely," Harry said, nodding fervently. "Yeah, I'll let the team know we have practice tonight. Thanks, Professor."

McGonagall nodded, looking between the two sternly.

"As your professor, I'm required to warn you that if I find you two in this position again, I'll have to deduct house points," she said, and Hermione nodded vigorously.

"We understand, Professor," she said, and McGonagall's lips quirked in what could only be called a knowing smile as she turned away from them.

"The corridors, of course, I have no jurisdiction over in that regard," she said as she walked away, "except to enforce the curfew. Have a lovely afternoon."

She turned out of sight, leaving the pair blushing crimson and unable to look at each other.

"Um," Harry finally broke the silence (admittedly halfheartedly), and Hermione looked sharply up at him.

"Do you…want to go for a walk before your practice?" she asked, and Harry nodded as she gathered the book that she'd accidentally dropped during their kiss and joined him. "I'll need to check this out, but then we can…pick up where we left off," she blushed again and smiled, and Harry felt his stomach give an excited leap.

"Yeah…" he said with a smile to match. "That sounds brilliant."

……

Harry had of course heard of couples snogging in broom cupboards; no Hogwarts student didn't at least hear it mentioned in passing. Someone would say, "Oh, so-and-so got caught snogging in a broom cupboard after curfew last night." But, like many a student, he'd never believed it was a situation in which he would actually find himself, least of all with Hermione Granger (for a plethora of reasons).

Against all odds, however, he found himself in a rather spacious setup (with a window, no less), snogging his best friend quite thoroughly and rather enjoying it. It wasn't the frantic "I really wish to eat your face" kissing that Lavender and Ron so often engaged in, but a relaxed, languorous moment, much more his speed.

"Hmm," Hermione hummed as they pulled apart for a breather, smiling up at him. "I think I rather like snogging you."

Harry chuckled. "I'll take that as a compliment," he said, and Hermione giggled then fell silent, her expression turning suddenly troubled. "Something wrong?"

"Well," she hesitated, biting her bottom lip, and Harry had to quash the urge to lean in and kiss her again. "I don't want to kill the mood, but what about Ginny? You were over the moon for her not a week ago."

"I actually gave that some thought," Harry said, and Hermione nodded. "And I realized…it was about time I got over that. She's with Dean, and I really don't know her that well. Besides, I…. It's hard to explain, but as soon as I…let myself think of you…that way…" he paused and looked at Hermione, who nodded to show that she was following him, "I decided…I like the idea of _you_ and I better than _her_ and I. Does that make sense?"

Hermione beamed at him. "Of course it does, Harry," she said, nuzzling his chest. "It makes complete sense."

That night, the Gryffindor team practiced their hearts out, but a certain seeker was decidedly distracted through the proceedings, narrowly missing several bludgers to the head. When asked what was on his mind, Harry only glanced at the stands (where a brown-haired friend of his was sitting) and replied, "Nothing."

His grin was absolutely enormous.

* * *

"Now that's more like it," Sirius said with a grin. "Way to go, Harry! James'd love to read this. I should bring him round next time I stop by."

"Oh, please don't," the author said, looking up from his sketch. "You two just build off of each other; I don't know if I could handle it."

"Aw, it'll be fun!" Sirius said, standing and rushing to the posting point. "Let's you and me post this, and then I'll go get him!"

"Fu-Sirius!" the author jumped to his feet and dashed after Sirius, who was already halfway to the posting point. "You don't even know my password!"

"I'll guess it!"

Huffing, the author stopped just before the exit, turning and speaking to the room at large, "Those who want to check out my deviantART, go my profile, where you can see the link below my Bibliography section. Bear in mind, the chapters are still being compiled. Thank you, and have a nice day."

They left, and the room was silent once more, save for the low sounds of "Yellow Submarine".


	3. Chapter 3

"Right through here."

"So, this is the one who wrote that story with Harry and the Meyer-pires?"

"Yeah, he's actually a nice bloke."

The author was standing by a window, munching on a bowl of cereal when the door slammed open. He glanced toward the commotion, and his appetite immediately left him.

"Oh, bugger all," he muttered, setting his cereal bowl down and moving away from the wall. "I thought you were joking about bringing him!" he called across the room.

Sirius beamed from next to James, who was surveying the room with obvious fascination. "Well, you _are_ writing about his son. I figured he'd want to meet you."

"Alright, mate?" James said with a grin, walking up the author and clapping him on the shoulder, causing the author to wince. "So, listen, I've seen your work, and you're good, but I want to just bounce an idea off you. Just for fun." He paused, staring at the author for a moment, who nodded. "A harem."

"Not happening," the author said, slipping out from under James's hand, and Sirius burst out laughing.

"Aw, why not?" James said. "The boy deserves some fun after all Rowling's put him through. You could make Hermione his favorite or something. That one you were writing, that 'Segue' story, that's got some potential – "

"Harems are about fan service," the author said. "If I ever wrote one, it would have to be a humor story, not to be taken seriously."

"Well, there you go," Sirius piped in. "When you finish up your 'Connection and Capacity', take a break with some humor. You said you've hit a wall with your other two stories, right?"

"That's a good idea," James agreed, grinning at Sirius. "Good call, Padfoot. Write something just for fun, you know?"

"I'll think about it," the author said flatly, moving to his table and drawing out a file. "Just read this, would you?"

James lunged for the chapter, and Sirius moved behind him, peering over his shoulder.

"Padfoot, doesn't he remind you of Moony?" James whispered as they read, and Sirius nodded, still reading.

……

**Chapter Three: **_**Who**_** is the walrus?**

"D'you suppose he's waiting for someone?"

"Well, Slughorn's Christmas party's tonight. His date's probably getting ready."

"Who is it, I wonder?"

"Maybe it's Parvati. They went to the Yule Ball together."

"She had a horrible time, though. I don't think she'd want to relive that."

Harry rolled his eyes as he leaned against the wall outside the entrance to the girls' dorms. It had taken him all of twenty minutes to shower, get dressed in his finest suit and jacket, comb his hair, and make his way back down to await Hermione. Ten minutes of waiting later, he was now attracting the attention of several students who were passing their Saturday night in the quiet of the common room.

_I gave her a fifteen minute head start, plus twenty minutes it took for me to get ready, plus ten minutes I've been here._ Forty-five minutes, he concluded, idly reaching into his pocket and producing a galleon, which he proceeded to flip absently, catching it when it reached the highest point of its flight. He knew that Aunt Petunia had always taken much longer than Uncle Vernon when getting ready to go to their fancy to-dos, but he'd thought that was just his aunt. Apparently, it was more common among women than he'd thought.

The door opened, and Harry glanced over, his eyes widening when he saw Hermione smiling at him wearing a simply amazing spaghetti-strap dress of pale pink. She had her hair pulled up back and tucked behind her ears, and to top the look off, she'd applied a small amount of lip gloss and just a touch of eye shadow.

Forty-five minutes, he decided, was a perfectly acceptable waiting period.

"Hermione, you look…spectacular," Harry said, and Hermione beamed at him.

"Thank you, Harry," she said, moving to take his arm. "You look rather dashing yourself."

Students were gaping at this point, and their thoughts were virtually painted on their faces: Harry and _Hermione_? Hermione leaned in, whispering in his ear.

"Want to give them a show?"

Harry grinned, leaning in and capturing her lips in a kiss that was acceptable enough for public but left no question that these two were involved. Pulling away, he watched as Hermione's eyes darted around the common room, and she laughed.

"Romilda Vane looks like she might vomit," she said in a low voice, and Harry chuckled, taking her hand and leading her from the common room.

"She'll just have to get over it," he said as they walked.

……

"Oi! Ron!"

Ron was currently lying on his bed, chatting with Seamus, who was sitting on his own bed and attempting to master a muggle contraption called the "paddleball". The shout had come from Dean, who dashed into the room with what could only be described as a look of shock.

"What's wrong, Dean?" Seamus asked.

"Ron, did you know about Harry and Hermione?" he asked, and Ron looked at him in confusion.

"What about them?" he asked, sitting up.

"They just had a good snog right in the middle of the common room!" he said, his eyes bulging. "You should've seen it, it was…well, bloody hot!"

"Wait, hold on," Ron said, standing. "You mean Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, right?"

"Yeah."

"The same two I'm friends with?"

"Yeah."

"And they were…snogging?"

"Right there in the common room. They walked out holding hands and looked pretty hung up on each other."

Ron clenched his fists, imagining the two of them kissing like that in full view of the common room. No, that didn't sit right with him. Hermione wasn't supposed to get with Harry; she was supposed to…stay single or something. Ron didn't know why, but her with _anyone_ just bothered him, least of all his best friend.

Harry and Hermione….

"Where's Slughorn holding his party?"

"His classroom, I think," Dean said, looking confused. "Why? You're not thinking of going there, are you?"

Ron slipped his shoes on and strode from the room, leaving Seamus and Dean in stunned silence.

……

"Oh, Harry, this is Patrick McKenna," Slughorn said, indicating a tall, sandy-haired wizard with some flecks of gray in his hair and beard. "Class of '64. He was the chaser on the Irish national quidditch team for four years before a, um, sudden retirement."

"Took a bludger to the gut twenty feet off the ground," Patrick said with a grin. "Flew right off me broom and emptied me stomach to boot."

Hermione made a small cough before deciding against eating whatever hors d'œuvres Neville had been handing out.

"Old Patty here is on very good terms with the Irish national coach," Slughorn said. "Free tickets whenever the fancy strikes. Patty, you of course know of Harry Potter."

"Pleasure," Harry said, extending a hand, which Patty took, giving it a firm shake. As Slughorn and Patty chatted, Harry gave Hermione a significant look that spoke volumes: _Get me out of here_.

"Um, Harry, I'm suddenly parched," Hermione said. "Some punch?"

"Of course," Harry said, turning to Slughorn. "Excuse us, sir."

"Not at all, boy," Slughorn said with a smile. "Go and mingle."

They slipped away, and Harry sighed once they were well out of earshot. "I feel like a bloody politician. It's all fake smiles and politeness."

"Well, we know a career as Minister for Magic is out of the question, then," Hermione said with a giggle, and Harry chuckled. "If it's any consolation, you've got schmoozing down to an art form."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Harry said, grabbing two cups of punch and handing one to her. They leaned against a wall and sipped at their drinks, watching as various Slug Club alumni introduced themselves to current members.

As they stood, Neville approached with another tray. "Spinach puff?"

"No, thank you, Neville," Harry said. "I think I've had my fill."

He offered the tray to Hermione, who shook her head. "Same here."

Neville smiled at the two then glanced up as he spotted something over their heads, chuckling. "Pucker up, you two," he said, pointing. "Mistletoe."

The pair looked up as one, smiling when they spotted the plant twinkling above them. They looked down at each other, still smiling, and leaned in for a kiss. Neville quietly excused himself as they took advantage of their secluded spot to work in a well-deserved break from the festivities.

Or that was the plan, at least.

"Oi! What are you two doing!?"

Harry felt a hand on his shoulder as they broke apart, looking up in surprise to see Ron standing there looking much the same as he had looked upon seeing Hermione with Viktor at the Yule Ball. Glancing at Hermione, Harry cringed at the look on her face; she definitely didn't appreciate being interrupted.

"As you can see, Ronald, we are kissing," she replied, and Ron's eyes bugged, "and we'd prefer not to be rudely interrupted while doing so."

"But…but how could you…?"

"How could we kiss?" Hermione asked. "It's really easy, actually. You should know, though; you and Lavender have been dong plenty of it for the past week."

"That's beside the point – "

"That's _entirely_ the point, Ronald!" Hermione said, and by now, they had attracted the attention of the whole room. Glancing around at the faces turned their way, Harry placed his hands on Hermione's shoulders, steering her toward the door.

"Hermione, maybe we should take this into the hallway," he said, and Hermione sighed, nodding in agreement. As they walked, Harry looked up at professor Slughorn. "Sorry to disturb your party, professor."

"Think nothing of it, my boy," Slughorn said with a smile, already halfway through a bottle of brandy and apparently feeling quite genial. "Good luck with your little spat."

Once safely in the hallway, Hermione rounded on Ron, and Harry grimaced; he'd inadvertently given her more time to come up with further reasons as to why Ron was a prat.

"Now, Ronald," she began, "do explain why, despite having a girlfriend and having spent the last week glued to her mouth, you feel the need to fly off the handle as soon as you see Harry and I kissing, because I seem to have missed something very important."

"Well…but I thought Harry like Ginny," Ron said, probably latching onto the first reasonable point that occurred to him.

"I did, a little," Harry said, wrapping an arm around Hermione's shoulders, and she nestled into his side, "but once I started to think of Hermione…that way, I realized that I like her a lot more than I liked Ginny. Besides, she's with Dean."

"And you're with Lavender," Hermione reiterated. "So there shouldn't be any problem with me and Harry going out."

"I…" Ron was again at a loss for words, but he managed to compose himself. "Is it serious?"

Harry and Hermione blushed as their gazes met.

"I think so," Harry said, smiling at her. "I _hope_ so, at least."

Hermione smiled at him, her ire completely forgotten as their gazes locked again. "It definitely is," she replied, reaching up to trace his jaw with her finger. Harry felt his heart soar at her words, leaning in to pick up where they'd left off before being interrupted. Hermione giggled against his mouth, teasing him once with her tongue before pulling away, intending to tell Ron to shove off so they could have a moment.

But he was already gone.

"Huh," Harry made a small noise of surprise; he'd been expecting a blazing row, not a surrender.

"I guess he got the idea," Hermione said, then gasped.

"What?" Harry asked, and a truly impish smile stretched across her face.

"Harry, did you ever stop to ponder that the Room of Requirement - ?"

"Let's go," Harry said, grabbing her hand, and the two happily made their way to the most private place in Hogwarts.

……

"You look terrible, mate," Dean said as Ron stepped morosely into the common room.

"Did she hex you?" Seamus asked a little too eagerly, standing in anticipation. "What'd she use?"

"She didn't hex me," Ron said hoarsely. "Looked ready to, though."

"Why do you look like your puppy just died, then?" Dean asked, and Ron slumped into a chair near the two.

"They're…really happy," Ron said. "I mean, it's more than just snogging to them. They really…care about each other. Hermione and I could never have had that."

"You two would've ripped each other apart in the first week," Seamus agreed.

"Yeah, you aren't really suited at all," Dean concurred. Ron nodded.

"But…you should've seen it," he continued. "They looked at each other, and…it was like I didn't even exist. Hermione wasn't even mad anymore."

"They're in love," Dean said, and Ron sighed. "Ron, c'mon, mate. If you were truly their friend, you'd be happy for them. _I_ am. Those two just…fit. Besides…" he trailed off, grinning at something he saw over Ron's shoulder. Fearing the worst, he turned and saw Lavender approaching with a smile, climbing into his lap and nuzzling his neck.

"Won-Won, I haven't seen you aaaalllll daaaaayyy," she pouted, puckering her bottom lip far too much. "Where'd you goooo?"

"Um," Ron shrugged. "Just…fancied a walk. Where're you two going?" he asked as Dean and Seamus stood. Seamus grinned at him as Dean gathered his books up.

"You look like you could use some alone time," Seamus said, and Dean nodded.

"See you later, Ron," he said.

They left as quickly as they could without appearing to run away, leaving Ron with his "Lav-Lav".

……

"So…."

Harry looked down at their current position and attire. He had disposed of his jacket the moment they'd arrived in the Room of Requirement (set up to be "a good place for Harry Potter and Hermione Granger to have some private time") and his tie and shoes had soon followed, leaving him in dress pants with his button-down shirt untucked with half the buttons undone. Hermione, meanwhile, was also shoeless, and she'd dispensed of her hairpins, leaving her tresses to fall over her shoulders (which Harry rather liked). To top it off, Hermione was currently draped over Harry, both of them lying on the large, squashy couch that had spawned in the room, along with a crackling fireplace and an enormous bay window overlooking the grounds.

"You _know_ we look like we just got done shagging," Hermione pointed out.

"I'm just fine with that," Harry said with a grin, and Hermione propped herself up on one hand, playfully smacking him on the chest with the other. Harry chuckled, feigning pain at her assault, but she only leaned in to kiss him again before moving to sit back on the couch.

"Something wrong?" he asked, sitting up, and Hermione shook her head.

"Not really," she said. "Just…when you said that you hoped it was serious between us…what did you mean?"

"Exactly what I said," Harry said with a smile, leaning up to sit across from her. "I…I like this. I like it a lot. I wake up in the morning, and I can't wait to just see you. Not just because of the snogging, which is brilliant, by the way," he added, and Hermione laughed, pecking him on the nose, "but…I feel like you're the only one who _gets_ me. You see me as me, and not as famous Harry Potter. I can really talk to you about anything, and I know you'll listen, and you won't run away if it gets to be too real. You've always been there, and hopefully, you always will be."

Hermione smiled at him, leaning in to kiss him with a passion she'd never shown before. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him in, making sure he knew that she still had a tongue (and just what it was capable of) before pulling away.

"Of course I always will be," she said. "After a speech like that, I'd be a fool not to."

Harry laughed, and Hermione hugged him, nestling into his chest and kissing his neck. "So, we're really doing this? Boyfriend, girlfriend, all of that?"

"If you'll have me," Harry said, and Hermione nodded.

"I'd love to be your girlfriend."

"Then you can call me your boyfriend."

Sighing in sheer happiness, Hermione slumped back onto Harry, who lay back on the extremely comfortable couch, running his fingers through her hair. She made a noise of contentment at his ministrations, nuzzling his chest.

Yes, for the happy couple, life was good right now.

……

Epilogue:

_Six years later._

"A toast to the new England national keeper!" Harry shouted to the assembled party guests, and everyone raised their glasses, turning to Harry. "To Ronald Weasley. Though he may be going national, he will always be our king!"

"Hear hear!" the guests shouted, taking a drink, and Harry sat down next to Ron, whose ears were bright red at the attention.

"Thanks, mate," he said, grinning as he swilled the contents of his glass around before taking a drink. "Can't believe it. National. This is it, then isn't it? Top of me game now."

"And look what you've got to show for it," Harry said, nudging his mate's shoulder. "You've got your own flat in a great neighborhood, and a beautiful girlfriend – "

"Who you should make your fiancé now that you've got this job," a new voice said, and Hermione appeared at Harry's shoulder, leaning in to kiss him, and Harry smiled as she moved to sit next to him, grunting slightly as she hefted her large belly into place. "My feet were starting to kill me. Potter, this child of yours is going to weigh a ton."

"It's all muscle," Harry said with a grin at his wife. "Takes after the old man."

Hermione rolled her eyes, turning to Ron. "So, when are you going to pop the question? Susan's starting to get impatient."

"Soon enough," Ron said with the air of a child telling his mum when he was going to clean his room. "In fact, Harry and I are gonna go check out rings tomorrow."

"Really?" Hermione asked with an eager smile, and Harry nodded. "Oh, Ron, that's wonderful! If you get married in the next few months, our anniversaries will be really close together!" She looked ready to say something else, but stopped just as she opened her mouth. "Oh, now I have to use the loo. Be right back."

She stood and scurried off, bound for the bathroom. Harry glanced at Ron, who was smiling across the room. Following his gaze, Harry spotted Susan blushing as she smiled at Ron, taking a sip of her drink. Reaching over, he gave his friend a nudge on the shoulder.

"Go get her, mate," he said, and Ron nodded.

"See you later," he said, and Harry waved at Susan as Ron made his way over to her. Waving back, Susan turned her attention to Ron, greeting her with a bone-breaking hug worthy of Mrs. Weasley. Harry was left alone at his table, contemplating his good fortune. He and his beautiful wife were currently expecting their first child, and Ron seemed on the road to marriage as well.

"Life is good."

……

"Yeah, way to go, Harry!" James said with a laugh, looking at Sirius. "Y'see, Padfoot? Harry always gets his girl. I like Hermione, too. Reminds me of Lily. Sharp as a tack, but with a lot of spunk."

"Told you he was good, Prongs," Sirius said, handing the manuscript back to the author, who shook his head as he observed the two. "Now, wait'll you see the posting point. It's wicked."

"Let's go, then!" James said, jumping from his seat and eyeing the two anxiously. Sirius grinned at the author, who nodded reluctantly, moving to follow them. As they walked, James dropped back to fall in step next to the author, wrapping an arm around his neck to pull him in. "So, about that harem…."

"I am _not_ writing a harem story!" the author yelled, and Sirius and James burst into laughter as they exited. The room was silent, though a single note lay on the table, written in the author's own handwriting, likely a reminder to himself:

_Don't forget to tell them to visit my deviantART page if they feel like discussing the stories or otherwise voicing an opinion._


End file.
